


Synthetic Memories

by WordsAblaze



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Mostly malec, Multi, camille is barely with magnus, i am so excited to finally post this, jace is fleetingly mentioned, my apologies to ragnor, no clary, potentially confusing pronouns due to nobody knowing their name, sorry i'll stop tagging now, this is the first time someone drew art for my writing and i will never be over it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAblaze/pseuds/WordsAblaze
Summary: The gang wakes up, one by one, to another regular day... Except something feels wrong, the foundations of their world seem to have changed, and their memory is mostly unreliable. (somewhat inspired by ouat) Written for the Shadowhunters Hiatus Big Bang, Enjoy!





	Synthetic Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Causteek for beta'ing despite having loads to do and Kamzcaicedo (on tumblr) for the amazing, amazing artwork that I literally just cannot stop staring at!!!

 

* * *

   **Part One**

* * *

 

It’s not just a headache.

It’s more like someone repeatedly drumming on his head with their hands curled into fists.

His eyes only find the strength to open when he hears someone moan in pain, at which point he’s up in an instant, his muscles tense and his fingers splaying, a crazy warmth rushing through his blood that almost – almost – dulls the incessant ache in his brain.

Before he can process the glow surrounding him and the stream of light emerging from his hands or the intense pull on something deep within his soul and the urge to turn to someone who doesn’t seem to exist, there’s someone wincing and crying out as the blood is drawn back into their body and their wound is sealed up. Within no time at all, there’s a brunette gasping with relief and blinking at him in both gratitude and confusion.

“Magnus?”

It takes him a moment to stop the world blurring but then he nods, wondering how he’d forgotten his own name. It then takes him far too long to figure out where he is and who he’d just healed but he blames it on the energy he’d used up before questioning which energy he’d just used up to go against the laws of injuries. Once again, it takes him a small age to work out who exactly he’d just unleashed a part of himself he didn’t remember for, but his brain comes up more or less blank.

The brunette he’d just instinctively helped – that his brain now somewhat identifies as Raphael Santiago – nods and stands, holding out a hand for him immediately. Taking it with a smile, he pulls himself up and wobbles for only a few seconds before being able to think properly. His first thought turns out to be wondering why on earth his curtains are now ruby red instead of maroon.

Their inquisitive silence is interrupted by a rather unnecessarily loud tapping on the laminated flooring, the flooring that Magnus can dimly remember himself changing because of someone not liking them, someone who must have stayed because he doesn’t take unnecessary opinions to heart, someone he can’t quite picture despite his usually flawless memory of guests…

“Maggie!” an alarmingly high-pitched voice simpers from the doorway behind them.

Every atom of Magnus’ being cringes and Raphael shakes his head as he stifles a noise of disgust.

“Why have the curtains changed colour?” Magnus finds himself asking instead of the many questions that may get them somewhere in figuring out what’s actually going on.

“Oh, you silly thing, you!” the woman giggles, “You gave me permission to decorate, don’t you remember?”

Magnus swims through the fog of his mind and tries to recall doing such a thing but, like before, he can’t remember anything before his headache. He can’t even identify whoever thinks it was okay to give him a nickname sounding similar to an eastern food company, never mind remembering when or why he’d given someone with clearly appalling taste permission to redecorate.

“Do we know each other?” Raphael asks without warning.

The woman smiles sweetly, her paper-white teeth gleaming under the chandelier. “Have you hit your head, dear? I’m Camille, your mother!” She exclaims and wraps an arm around Magnus’ middle. “And Maggie here is your father!”

Magnus has to pretend he isn’t alarmed at the statement so he doesn’t offend whoever Camille is but luckily his job is made much easier by Camille beaming at them after she steps back. “Are you boys hungry yet? I’ve made us pie! It’s lemon flavoured too, just like we agreed on!”

Neither of them says anything as they follow Camille with their alarm bells ringing and their senses tingling. Only once they’re seated at a table decorated with flowers that seem almost painfully blue does Magnus ask anything, “Camille… have- have we missed something?”

“I’m not sure what the two of you were playing with but it’s obvious you seem to have forgotten the big occasion!”

“Which is?” Raphael asks, his appetite clearly non-existent and his curiosity through the roof, so to speak.

Camille shakes her head at them as if she’s an exasperated preschool teacher. “The wedding!”

If she’d have expected their eyes to light up in realisation, she’d have been sorely disappointed. As it is, she seems to have been expecting a lack of understanding as she goes on to clarify: “Maggie, my dear, we’re getting married! Are you sure you’re alright?”

Raphael chokes on surprise, staring at her with eyes the size of the moon. “You’re what?”

“We’re getting married! Oh come on, you haven’t really forgotten a mere week before the big day, have you?” Camille asks incredulously.

Feeling terrible for making someone else upset, Magnus forces a laugh. “It’s a joke, Camille… my sweet… we’re just messing around, aren’t we, Raphael?”

“Right,” Raphael echoes blankly, then shakes his head. “I think I need to sleep.”

“I’ll go make sure he’s alright,” Magnus says as Raphael walks out, unsure of what’s happening. He follows his ‘son’ out and up the stairs, only sighing when he’s sure Camille can’t see him anymore. He can still see himself though, in the mirror across the corridor, so he stares at himself, willing answers to appear in his reflection.  

“Does something feel off to you?” Raphael questions, scaring the life out of Magnus as he hadn’t seen any movement in the mirror… the mirror that he still can’t see any movement in. Apparently, he’s not the only one because Raphael gives him no time to answer, letting out a small curse as he notices the lack of himself in the reflection.

“I thought mirrors weren’t meant to lie?” Magnus is only half joking.

Raphael opens his mouth to reply but shakes his head instead, looking like a fish being used to slap someone. “I don’t trust a word she says.”

He might have reasoned that nobody should be immediately regarded as untrustworthy but he can’t argue with ridiculous colour schemes, forgettable marriages, and mirrors devoid of reflections, especially when there are two of them who feel the same. After all, if you can’t remember loving someone who claims to be your fiancée, they’re probably not who they say they are.

 

* * *

**Part Two**

* * *

 

Brown eyes.

As much as he loves brown eyes and appreciates the subtle beauty they’re able to effortlessly radiate, there’s something about the intensity at which these particular ones are scrutinizing him that makes him want to vanish.

It’s only once he’s figured out how to be confident in himself that he notices the warmth he can feel radiating from the owner of the intense brown eyes. Not only the warmth, but he can feel the curves of their frame and their skin touching his. Trying not to move and discover more about the shape of their figure than he wants to, he coughs to get their attention.

They – it’s a girl if the bright red lipstick and glossy waves of black hair are anything to go by – blink and jump backwards. Unfortunately, this only means she loses her balance and falls flat on top of him, her head hitting his nose. He might have complained but the shock of it causes something inside of him to jolt; he finds himself remembering that he’d forgotten his own name for some reason.

“I don’t think my nose is broken,” Alec says immediately, seeing the remorseful look in her eyes.

The fact that she’d been close enough to hit his nose begs the question: who on earth is she and what is she doing on top of him? Alec internally chides himself for asking his brain two questions instead of one but then focuses on the girl above him, his gaze travelling over her blush and downcast eyes to her ruby pendant and the scratch on her neck until it lands on the black tattoos seemingly inked into her skin.

“Do you know me?” the girl asks, squinting at him. Alec blinks.

“What?”

“Do you know me?” she repeats, “Because I don’t know you but I feel like we’ve met before.”

Alec pauses, considering, but evades answering by shifting so the girl has no choice but to lift herself up and the two of them awkwardly try not to crash as they stand themselves up. The girl sucks in a breath faster than a bullet can be fired before asking, “Are we related?”

“Huh?” Alec is completely caught off guard, previously wondering if the two of them were in a relationship, ergo questioning his apparent preference change. Not that there was anything wrong with her, per se, it’s just-

“We’re definitely related,” the girl declares, saving Alec from the embarrassment of trying to internally explain his own sexuality to himself despite already knowing.

“How do you know?” Alec asks.

“We’re both wearing a ring with the same word on it and I doubt ‘lightwood’ is our ship name,” the girl explains, then seems to have an epiphany when Alec mutters the name to himself. “Lightwood. Lightwood, lightwood, lightwood. Isabelle. Isabelle… Isabelle Lightwood? Isabelle Lightwood!”

Alec blinks but the name strikes bells inside his head too. “Izzy?”

“Alec!” Izzy grins, throwing her arms around him and, this time, he’s not uncomfortable with her being so close. This time, he greatly appreciates the gesture, leaning into her embrace and sighing with relief. Izzy giggles at him, “Did you really think we were together?”

Alec’s cheeks flush. “It may have crossed my mind… But that’s not important!” he adds before she can make a joke. “This is the institute, right? Where is everyone?”

Izzy’s jovial smile fades as she scans the room. “Is that a mission alert?”

Somehow knowing that those words mean trouble, he follows her gaze and frowns at the flickering red envelope on the screen, taking only a few steps towards it before sparks rain down, showering the siblings with mostly harmless electricity.

“By the angel!” Izzy breathes as they share a worried look, “What happened here?”

Shaking his head, Alec shrugs and tries to open the message. Nothing happens. He frowns, pressing everything he thinks could help, and swipes at the confirmation messages popping up. His success lasts a total of six silent seconds, after which the entire screen dissolves into a dark black. But not for long. A dangerous crackling noise fills the air as both cautiously Alec and Izzy step back but neither of them had been expecting the screen to brighten until they have to look away, and then shatter.

Glass and plastic are thrown around the room, pieces of metal falling to the ground and sparks sliding over every surface. Acting on instinct, Alec goes to shield Izzy and sends them both toppling to the floor, their positions now reversed and their eyes wide as they hope nothing else explodes.

“Is it over, do you think?” Izzy whispers once the crackling stops. Alec nods,

“Yeah.”

“Well, at least we know something’s definitely wrong.” Izzy picks up a shard of glass and chucks it to one side. “I’m all for sticking together and looking around?”

Alec’s small smile is the only agreement Izzy needs so she nods back and coughs, “But first, we have to find you a better outfit.”

“What?”

“If we’re going to investigate what might be the end of the world, we’re going to do it with finesse.”

“Are you serious?” Alec asks incredulously, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow at his sister.

In return, she shoots a glare. “What would you suggest, then?” Izzy huffs.

Half of his energy used in attempting to conceal his eye-roll, Alec has to just sigh before he can reply. “How about finding some weapons?”

Instead of agreeing with him like Alec expects, Izzy shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair before poking his chest. “Weapons can only be useful when you’re fighting but I don’t see anybody else and fashion is a must at all times so I suggest you stop arguing and let me find you a more stylish outfit.”

This time, he can’t hold back his eye-roll.

Unfortunately, he can’t argue with that logic either, so he finds himself following Izzy as they hunt down an outfit that might just satisfy or at least be tolerated by her desire to improve Alec’s fashion sense.

 

* * *

**Part Three**

* * *

 

 

“Rise and shine, boys!” Camille’s voice rings from somewhere in the house.

Magnus jolts awake and realises he’s lying on a bed he doesn’t remember seeing before. He’s also wearing a shirt and bottoms that he has no recollection of buying, stealing, borrowing or anything else of the sort. Deciding to ignore the faint alarm bells in his head, he takes a breath, stares at the mirror until his makeup is done, and heads downstairs since he’s not come across a house with the kitchen on the first floor yet.

“Hey, Magnus,” Raphael says with a yawn.

“You shouldn’t address your parents by their name, Raphael!” Camille shakes her head disapprovingly, somehow missing the look Magnus and Raphael send each other.

“Right,” Raphael agrees, “good morning… dad.”

The ten minutes it takes for breakfast to be over is one of the stiffest ten minutes Magnus has ever experienced, and he’s been through a lot of ten minutes in his time, even if he can’t quite remember all of the previous ones.

Camille beams at them once they’re all done. “Maggie, dearest, why don’t you do the dishes while I get young Raphy ready for work?”

Camille manages to make both the men shudder but neither of them feels like going against her so Magnus piles the plates on his arms and allows her to lead Raphael upstairs. He’s trying not to inhale the scent of bubbles by the time his disjointed family returns but he doesn’t even notice them, staring into the growing pile of bubbles as if they hold the answer to his unspoken questions.

“Dad!”

Magnus, currently playing the part of a confused and sentient dishwasher, jumps an inch high and whirls around so fast he drops a plate. The plate would have smashed too, had tendrils of warmth not curled themselves around the ceramic and pulled it back towards his outstretched hands. Shocked at himself, he shakes his head. “Uh, you look lovely, Raphael, and I need to- I need to think.”

He’s gone before Camille can think to stop him and starts walking in no particular direction, more focused on his hands and the rush of adrenaline in his blood.  The only thing he pays any attention to while he clicks his fingers and waves his hands is how the ground changes underneath his feet, from cobbles and tarmac to grass and roots and all sorts of stray rocks. Nothing else can grab his attention. Nothing else, that is, aside from the emptiness that sends him flying back and crashing into a tree.

“Are you okay?” this time, the female voice doesn’t sound like a child finding their lost toy but a friend whose primary concern is why he’d crashed into a tree.

“Am I colour-blind?” he asks as he blinks himself upright. Of course, he instantly regrets asking that when the fragmented memories of hospitals and houseplants rush into his mind.

He thinks of sparks and magic, of blue skin and hilarious Halloween costumes, of some spitting the word ‘warlock’ at them and others praising them with the same word. He thinks of evening champagne and conversations of past loves just before, without warning, the world starts to make a little more sense.

“Sorry.” He grins sheepishly, wondering how he’d forgotten such an important person in his life.

“I’m going to blame that on the tree.”

“Thanks, Cat.” Magnus rubs his head, then squints at the innocent-looking forest that’d blown them back… twice. “What exactly happened?”

“I have a feeling it’s a ward of some sor- do you know what a ward is?” Catarina asks him, biting her lip. There’s something unsettling about someone having to question their thoughts because they don’t know if you can remember what they’re referring to, but Magnus chooses not to voice his discomfort.

“Yeah. Although, we do have to…”

“Ready when you are,” Catarina replies, a soft smile on her face.

And so the two of them grin at each other, dismiss their internal stupidity detectors flashing, and run at the unseen barrier…. Only to immediately be forced to fly back once again, this time landing in a pile of welcoming leaves.

“That was stupid,” they both mutter as they brush broken leaves from their hair.

Magnus grins, feeling like himself or the first time since waking up with barely any memories. Apparently, Catarina shares his excitement because she doesn’t seem too fazed by being trapped, choosing to crack her neck and then her knuckles. “This just got a whole lot more exciting.”

There’s a part of him that admits he feels the same but he can’t focus on the excitement of something to investigate because he can hear someone breathing.

“Do you hear that?” he asks, already walking to where he thinks he can hear someone muttering something that sounds oddly familiar.

Catarina says nothing but follows, her fists clenched and her footsteps lighter than her silent breaths. The two of them chase a sound only Magnus had heard, both gasping when they see the bleeding man on the floor. The grass at his feet is shining with pearls of red and his clearly green skin is a pale, sickly, hue.

“Oh my- Oh no, oh no, no, no, no…” Catarina repeats as she kneels beside him. As she does, something dawns on Magnus and he shakes his head adamantly,

“You can’t die on me again, cabbage!”

Ragnor laughs before coughs up a thin trail of blood and shakes his head, his arm firmly wrapped around his stomach as if trying to physically hold his blood in. “It’s too late. You have to forget about saving me and focus on saving us.”

“Who?” Catarina asks as she and Magnus try their best to heal him. Both can’t suppress the flashes of broken horns, shattered glass, and stripped wards but neither of them wants to vocalise anything, too scared their memories will repeat themselves.

“Everyone,” Ragnor croaks in reply, “the Downworlders, the Nephilim… everyone.”

“You’re using words I don’t remember,” Magnus groans, his head pounding as he grits his teeth.

“Cat… Mags… Don’t let yourselves forget-” he trails off, coughing.

Catarina shares a look with Magnus, one that allows them to agree they’re both as clueless as each other, and turn to Ragnor as he breathes, “We’re warlocks and we need to…”

“NO!” Magnus can’t hold back the cry as he helplessly watches the light leave Ragnor’s eyes and his entire frame freeze like some horrible version of a photograph, a hopeful smile frozen, only his blood moving as his breathing breaks and his heart pauses, indefinitely.

 

* * *

**Part Four**

* * *

 

“Okay, Izzy, enough!” Alec bats her hands away from his hair and rolls his shoulders, unable to shake the feeling of something being missing but not knowing what to do about it.

Izzy huffs but steps back and tilts her head, holding her hands in front of her so her fingers form a rectangular shape. Eventually, she nods and flicks her hair back, cracking her knuckles. “I still don’t remember anything, do you?”

Alec shakes his head. “Not really,” he admits, “but I think we should find some weapons.”

Taking Izzy’s confused and thoughtful silence as agreement, Alec starts walking, searching for anything they can use to protect themselves. He can’t place it but something – everything – about the place seems wrong as if someone has ripped out every few pages of a book or missed out the alternate words in a sentence.

They come across various empty rooms, closets full of dusty cleaning equipment, a few abandoned offices, and finally a door with a lock.

Izzy grins. “A lock means something useful, right?”

Alec smirks and jogs back to the closets, grabbing the heaviest thing he can find - which happens to be a doorstopper - and shrugging at Izzy’s amused expression when he gets back. He brings the doorstopper down on the lock, smiling in satisfaction when it snaps open before violently swinging, as useless as breached airlocks. Izzy only rolls her eyes as she pushes on the handle, immediately stopping in her tracks and causing Alec to almost break his nose colliding with her.

“What?” he hisses.

Izzy only whistles and steps sideways, giving him a good view of the room. To put it simply, he can’t remember ever seeing so many weapons in one place. The room is a maze and the borders are knives and katanas and blades so sharp they almost hurt to look at. His gaze sweeps over the assortment of weapons until it lands on a row of bows that immediately call out to him.

Ignoring Izzy making a beeline in the opposite direction, he walks toward the beautifully crafted weapons, his hand brushing over all of them until he finds his fingers curling around one, almost as if he’s done it a thousand times before. It’s something out of a biology textbook, the action, akin to the child of muscle memory and discipline. The whole room fades away like a developing photo in reverse as his gaze skims over the carvings of the weapon. With absolutely nothing else on his mind, he reaches out to touch the object.

Blood.

Demon blood.

Showers of demon blood.

Alec jerks back with wide eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shuts his eyes and tries to make sense of the images. Before he can, Izzy calls out: “Alec? You okay?”

“Uh… Have you- did you see anything when you touched the weapons?”

“See… what?” Izzy asks, her voice wary.

Shaking his head, Alec sighs. “Flashes or blood and bruises and… battles?”

When Izzy squints at him with her head tilted, he expects her to then throw her head back and laugh but, to his surprise, she slowly nods.

“Only when I touched this…” She trails off as she lifts a positively buzzing, silver whip.

As soon as she does, Alec’s struck with images of arrows flying across the sky and strange patterns in the sand. In each image, there’s something missing, something that’s right in front of him but almost blurred out of his brain.

“Alec!” Izzy reaches out to steady him but jerks back immediately, gasping as her eyes flicker back and forth.

“Izzy!” Now it’s Alec’s turn to try and bring a sibling back to the present moment. Thankfully, he’s able to do this much faster than Izzy had and she’s soon staring at him with an expression that perfectly encapsulates his inner thoughts.

“Grab a weapon and let’s look around again,” Alec suggests, now certain that something bad had happened and assuming it’s their responsibility to fix it, whatever it is. Izzy seems to agree with him because she curls the whip around her wrist as if it’s a daily routine and clicks her neck before turning on her heel and walking back out of the door.

“How did we not notice these?” Izzy immediately asks as they walk into one of the empty-looking rooms and notice the torn papers littered on the floor.

Even as he adjusts the quiver and kneels down to pick one up, he can tell they’re a lot more serious than the confetti they resemble. The papers aren’t just casually ripped to save space in a bin, they’re truly shredded in jagged pieces as if something had dragged its claws along them or someone had released their anger on a stack of them. Alec roots through the papers, trying to form a sentence of some sort, but the only phrases he can read are beyond worrying.

“Any luck?” he asks Izzy, looking over to where she’s doing a similar sort of thing on the other side of the room, next to the window.

“I wish,” she replies.

Neither of them says anything for a good half hour, at which point they share a look of temporary defeat and stretch their cramped limbs. Alec slings the bow over his shoulder and the two of them leave the room, sighing in disappointment.

“Well,” Alec says, “now we know we’re not just being paranoid.”

“Isn’t that worse?”

She’s right; knowing you’re right to be paranoid but not knowing what’s making you paranoid is a whole lot worse than knowing the trouble is all psychosomatic.

“Maybe we just need to try a different approach?” Izzy adds, “What about outside?”

Alec nods at her without really accepting her suggestion because he’s too busy trying to piece together the fragments of conferences and fights rushing through his head like leaves being blown across the sky.

His mind remains cloudy as they start to move. He doesn’t pay attention to their search for an exit until they’ve already walked through one, at which point he blinks, clearing his throat for no particular reason and turning to see if Izzy is still behind him. Which she is. But she’s not the only one behind him.

 

* * *

**Part Five**

* * *

 

Magnus watches the flashes of playful headbumps and movie marathons flying through his mind as Ragnor’s body seems to fade in front of his eyes and the world swims in front of him. Reality flickers between blood-stained blades of grass and the two of them pretending to swallow real blades to entertain tourists all over Europe. He knows, almost as if he can sense it, Catarina is feeling what he is but she’d stumbled back and is now leaning on a tree instead of kneeling in the slowly spreading blood.

“Maggie?” someone calls out.

Magnus blinks, pulling himself to his knees and seeing Catarina tense immediately. “Mags, don’t fall for her-”

Unfortunately, she sinks into the shadows before Magnus can figure out if she meant not to fall in love with Camille or if she was warning him against something that’ll happen in future.

“Oh no…” Camille takes his hand and pulls him backwards, away from Ragnor and towards the official path, conveniently avoiding the whole barrier area.

His thoughts are a mess and he knows she can tell. He can’t avoid the crushing guilt of only remembering that someone who died was one of his best friends after they’d breathed their last words. He can’t stop replaying the whole thing in his head, wondering if it is all just a fever dream.

His feet are moving, he knows they are, but he can’t think why or where to or even where he’d just been. He wants to remember so he can honour Ragnor but he can’t pull up any more memories as if there’s a dam in his head that doesn’t want him to see his past. Paths change to stone, stone changes to grass, grass changes to steps, steps changed to a carpet, and he’s inside a house before he can process seeing a front door.

“Magnus?”

Giving up on trying to make sense of the world, he glances up to see Camille looking more serious than should be possible for someone wearing pink eyeshadow and red lipstick together.

“Yes?”

“I think we should talk.”

“Talk about what?”

Camille gestures for him to sit on the ridiculous couch that matches her eyelids and then starts talking about her own lack of memories. Truth be told, Magnus doesn’t pay attention to what she’s saying – something about love and trust and fresh starts – until she mentions magic. His magic.

“-on’t think you’re aware but your magic isn’t safe. I mean, look what happened to your poor friend…”

“Wait, what?” Magnus interjects, “I didn’t- he was already hurt!”

Camille sends him a look. “And why do you think that was?”

There are no words to express the confused, defensive rage bubbling inside of him so he bites his tongue, holding back a glare and waiting for her to either explain or confess her bluff.

“He was most definitely hurt by a stray one of the…. Well, whatever it is you were trying to form in your experimenting session.”

Magnus feels ashamed for the split second before something dawns on him. “And how did you know I was experimenting?”

“You wouldn’t want another death on your hands, would you?” Camille raises her eyebrows in a perfectly accusatory arch, her glare bouncing off his soul as he shakes his head.

A part of him wants to believe he did hurt Ragnor because, even if that means he truly is a danger to others, it would explain his death and make more sense than anything else that’s been happening. Even if it means sacrificing any respect he has, he would rather find a way to bring Ragnor closure than let his blood seep into the ground unexplained.

“You should rest, babe.”

Every atom of his entire being cringes at the unwanted term of endearment but he immediately chides himself for hating something his fiancée called him. He must have loved her far more than he does now at some point if he agreed to marry her, mustn’t he?

“Yeah…” he agrees half-heartedly but if she can sense his lack of enthusiasm, she doesn’t comment on it.

She hands him a glass full of something warm that looks like tea, but smells like coffee, and smiles widely. She is beautiful, Magnus thinks, but she’s the kind of beauty you’d notice in a black widow spider or a sniper’s aim rather than the kind of beauty you’d want to make a part of your life. His hybrid of a beverage remains cold as he watches her drink something that must be some form of hibiscus tea, judging by the colour.

As she leaves his room and shuts the light behind her, Magnus wonders if he should risk trying something small or if he should believe her. Catarina’s snippet of a warning rings in his head but he still can’t decide which kind of falling she was talking about. She has nothing to worry about if she meant romantic plummeting of the heart, but if she was talking about something else…

He takes a deep breath and blinks, removing the makeup from his face and changing clothes in under half a second. He keeps his eyes closed until he hears five minutes go by on the obnoxiously loud but oddly comforting clock hung up above his bed.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he thanks Catarina for her cryptic warning even if he doesn’t know what she meant and flops onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the solution to his problems. It doesn’t. But it does do something else: it makes him question their alleged family.

If Ragnor was right in saying he is a warlock and Camille… Camille may or may not also be, how could Raphael be their son? He’d remembered flashes of taking in young warlocks and explaining they couldn’t have children so, unless they’d adopted Raphael and the topic had somehow slipped his fiancée’s mind, there’s no way he could have children.

For the first time since waking up to a crazy world and discovering things about two different versions of himself, he accepts the theory that Camille may have lied.

 

* * *

**Part Six**

* * *

 

On instinct, Alec pushes Izzy behind him.

Apparently, this is the wrong move because, a second later, said someone who he doesn’t recognise is barrelling into him and his back is hitting the cold ground with a thud that reverberates in his blood. He groans, his body screaming at him to curl up but his mind on full alert and making him jump back up, a fist already formed.

A punch here, an elbow there, and continuous gasps from others not even in the fight later, Alec and the other man both stop, breathing heavily, Alec’s arm gently pressing on his neck and his eyes flickering between Alec’s and someone behind him.

The two of them are practically unmoving until their breathing steadies, at which point Alec asks: “And who do you think you are?”

“Who do you think you are?”

“The owner of this building. Now, are you going to answer or should my clenched fist play ‘bad cop’?” Alec asks. In truth, he has absolutely no idea what that phrase even means but there’s a part of his mind that seems to think the man underneath him would understand it. Speaking of...

“Wait… Simon?”

“How do you know my name?” the man frowns, fairly certain he wasn’t wearing a badge.

The other man looks even more confused than him, his forehead filling with frowns and his unusually sharp teeth biting his lip. As Alec notes this detail, he’s almost certain it’s Simon. Before either of them can say anything more, there’s a mutual groan from behind them so they both spring up, ready to protect their respective friends. It doesn’t really work out that way. Alec can only frown in confusion as he sees a curly haired woman next to Izzy, her dark eyes ablaze with a protective  

“Wait… you know Simon?”

“Simon…” Alec repeats the name after the woman whose anger had abruptly morphed into confusion, letting his eyes flutter shut as something clicks into place inside his mind. “Simon Lewis?”

“Lewis?” Simon repeats, then nods. “Lewis! Simon Lewis… Yeah, exactly! That’s me.”

“You didn’t know your own name?” Izzy asks, her expression softening in sympathy.

Simon shakes his head, then gasps. “Do you know her name?”

Alec and Izzy both look back to the other woman but, even though his gut tells him they’ve met before, he can’t identify her. Izzy shakes her head for him. “Sorry.”

The woman sighs but nods. “Don’t worry about it. Truce?”

“Sure,” Izzy smiles, an odd smile on her face.

The Lightwoods have only blinked when the two of them are gone as mysteriously as they’d arrived.

“Alec, you’re bleeding!” Izzy announces, her eyes wide and her jaw slack.

“I’m what?” Alec groans at his luck when he sees the irritatingly deep graze stretching from his shoulder to his elbow. It hadn’t hurt and he’s not too bothered but anything deeper than a triple papercut warrants a trip to the nearest medical centre, according to Izzy.

“No arguments,” his sister warns him with that dangerous sisterly glare almost accusing him of disobedience.

He doesn’t know how Izzy knows where the hospital is but he doesn’t question it, letting her make a statement and show his arm to whichever unfortunate soul had decided to help her. He says nothing when she all but pushes him into one of the rooms and he stays passive as she rolls his sleeves up to show someone his injury.

He does, however, jump when someone pokes his neck. To be fair, they’d probably only poked him because he’s jumped, judging by their immediate apology. Their voice… their voice reminds him of something, something he can’t recognise, just like Simon’s friend. As they take his pulse with more luck this time, he tries to pull up memories like he’d done with Simon. Nothing works. He tries again as they gently clean the wound and wipe away any blood from his arm. Nothing works. He makes a final attempt when they wrap a bandage around his arm, tightening it with as much force as a gentle breeze. Still, nothing works.

“Thanks, um…” Izzy pauses, expecting an answer but receiving only silence; the doctor or whoever the man was simply nods and walks out.

“He’s not being rude, he just can’t talk,” someone explains from the doorway and they look up a smug frown and pale skin. “I’m Raphael.”

“Izzy,” Izzy replies, “and this is my brother, Alec.”

Taking this as his cue, Alec does a little wave and takes the opportunity to stand, rolling his shoulders before bending his elbows to assess how freely he can move until it heals.

“Right. I’d say it was nice to meet you but that would imply your pain somehow provided me with pleasure and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Raphael asks but there’s something about his tone that implies the question is rhetorical. Or maybe it’s the unusually flawless quirk of his eyebrow.

Alec bites the inside of his lip as he wonders if Raphael feels the same as he does: as if the world is tilted just enough to make it uncomfortable but not enough to make it obvious. The shadow in his eyes despite the lights’ reflection hints at an underlying tension but he can’t assume it’s not simply because the man works in a hospital. Figuring that he can blame it on shock if he’s wrong, he takes a chance. “Do you feel as if something is wrong with the world?”

Raphael’s eyes spark for only a second before his eyebrow returns to its resting position and, even though he awkwardly shifts his weight from one foot to another, he shakes his head.

“Make sure he gets plenty of rest,” Raphael tells Izzy, sending Alec a sceptical glance before walking out of the door alike to the man before.

But his poker face doesn’t fool the elder Lightwood sibling. One second of hesitation is all he’d needed to ascertain whether or not he’d gone mad. The way Raphael had clearly understood what he was referring to despite the lack of confirmation only strengthens his curiosity; now that he knows he’s not the only one, his uneasiness seems justified.

 

* * *

**Part Seven**

* * *

 

She comes to with a quiet groan and a heavy headache.

She lashes out as someone tries to place something on her shoulders, regretting it when she hears her only friend cry out in pain.

Simon - she mentally renames him again, having temporarily forgotten their encounter with Alec - doesn't stay back for long, returning to drape something warm over her confusingly bare shoulders.

"Now you can be Sherlock," Simon whispers.

She blinks for a second, wondering if the two of them had picked up another friend on the way. It takes her a second but the memories of a long conversation with Simon return and she smiles, knowing he'd just given her his coat, the one they'd agreed is oddly similar to Sherlock's blue Belstaff. It's a sentiment she greatly appreciates, one that manages to ground her.

"You alright, claw?"

"You bet, fang." Her voice is rough as if she'd been screaming for an entire night but he manages to hear her anyway, sending her a lopsided smile as he acknowledges her nickname - the ones they'd assigned because they didn't know each other's names. Of course, it's also because they'd found each other in a library and hadn't been able to remember anything, which meant they'd assumed the worst of each other and mutually decided to induce a fight. Her nails had left the worst gashes in his skin and she'd been left with the image of pointed teeth looming over her so, when the fight had ended and they'd called a truce, the nicknames seemed obvious.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Simon asks.

She's suddenly hit with the realisation that they're now back in the library, but she doesn't remember anything after their conversation under the pine trees near the institute. Alarm bells ring in her head but Simon's hand in hers sends them to the back of her mind and she locks gazes with him once again. "What happened?"

"Great question..."

She lets out a small laugh, then shakes her head. "Seriously, fang, how we did we get back here?"

Simon bites his lip as he sends her a sheepish smile and so, even though she wants to be mad, she can't just... not find his polite awkwardness cute. Luckily, he's saved from answering her when another man, taller and older, walks in, scaring the life out of her.

Simon, obviously having seen her alarmed expression, whirls so he's stood in front of her, shielding her, and waves at the incomer. "Hey."

"Simon." He nods in her direction. "I see your friend's awake."

"Yup!" Simon's voice is higher than usual as he replies. "Perfectly awake!"

The man chuckles, "She's lost her clothes, right?"

"How do you know that?" she asks, finally finding her voice again.

The man smiles at her but it's a knowing smile, a smile that makes her wish he was frowning instead. It's a smile that tells her she's even more clueless than when she first woke up but she's too unwilling to ask what he knows that they don't. Thankfully, Simon coughs and diverts the attention back to himself, asking on her behalf. "It'd be, uh, appreciated, if you could tell us what you know?"

The man shakes his head at them in exasperation but then turns around, calling out, "Meet me in the foyer once you're actually clothed."

"As if it's our fault I'm not clothed..." she mutters to herself before pausing, her eyes widening. "You don't think- did he think we...?"

Simon shakes his head so quickly it's a wonder he doesn't give himself whiplash. "No.. I mean, not that it'd be a bad thing- as in, I wouldn't mind- I mean, I would... because obviously it's your choice and we'd wait until- wait, wait, no-"

"Fang, shut up." She rolls her eyes, trying and failing to hide her blooming smile.

After passing Maia the spare set of clothes they'd hidden her when they first met, Simon dutifully looks away and waits for her to get changed. Once she's slipped her own leather jacket on, she throws the Belstaff so it lands on Simon's head, causing him to hiss before chuckling and slipping his arms into the sleeves. The two of them share an encouraging smile before heading down the spiral staircase, giggling as they trip over each other but sobering when they near the bottom, approaching the man with sombre curiosity.

"First question: how open is your relationship?"

Simon frowns but she interrupts before he can babble on about something nobody else - apart from her - can understand, "How about being more specific?"

The man glances at them before cracking the most serious smile she's ever seen. "If I were to tell you something that may change your perspective on the world...?"

This time, Simon raises an eyebrow. "I mean, we've already acknowledged I'm a vampire so, unless you're going to tell us we're the reflection of someone's mirror or that we're the reincarnations of lemons, I think we're going to be difficult to surprise."

She smiles to herself as the man chokes on his initially judgemental inhale before nodding, his jaw clenching before he disappears. Well, before he appears to vanish but really drops to the floor faster than two halves of a magnet can reconnect, his shoulders rolling back and his legs stretching and his head tucked under his chin and his bones cracking as if they're shattering.

Simon jumps and Maia pulls him back on instinct as Luke vanishes and his clothes fall to the floor in a torn heap. The two of them have only just remembered to breathe when they see the glowing eyes and fur-covered nose staring up at them. Any fear in their minds fades when the wolf staring at them sits itself down, cocking its head to one side and almost smiling at them.

"Is that..."

"I think so," Simon replies.

They're still forming the questions they want and need to ask when the wolf's ears perk up and it darts behind one of the shelves to their right. There's no explanation until they hear someone quietly mumbling under their breath behind them. Said person obviously sees them because the quiet mumbles vanish, replaced with a silence she and Simon attempt to fill by coughing as they turn around once for what seems like the hundredth time in the last quarter of an hour.

"Who are you?" all three of them chorus after a beat of silence.

The stranger frowns before groaning and clutching his head without warning, his eyes flickering as he squeezes them shut. He then exhales slowly, she and Simon staying silent in case anything happens or they need to quickly run. Neither happens as the man opens his eyes to frown at them before asking: "Maia? Simon?"

She reels back as the man shoots his gun of knowledge, hitting her mind with the bullet of a name. Her name.

"Maia..." she rolls the name on her tongue while Simon mouths it to himself, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

"Magnus?" Maia asks, "Wait, Magnus Bane?"

"Maia Roberts and Simon Lewis, it is a pleasure to find you both here," Magnus drawls, now looking less like he's about to fall over any second.

Maia smiles but then freezes as a fact dawns on her: "I'm a werewolf?"

"That you are," the other werewolf, having changed into a new outfit, confirms. As soon as he steps into their line of sight, Magnus groans again and this time his knees buckle. Luckily, Simon and Maia were both on alert and manage to dart forwards, catching him before he breaks his nose on the floor.

"It's painful but nice to meet you, Luke," Magnus coughs, clenching his fists and only dimly scaring Simon and Maia with the sparks that float around his fingers. Luke chuckles and takes Magnus' weight from the younger two, letting himself act as a ballast until Magnus can stand upright once again, at which point he interlocks his fingers and cracks his knuckles, the sound akin to an echo of Luke's loud transformation earlier.

"Luke... Magnus...? Why did I-?"

"It's okay," Magnus interrupts, "Everybody seems to have forgotten everything."

"Even though that seems to be reassuring, I don't feel reassured," Maia says.

"I have a feeling it's all we've got for now," Simon quips, sighing.

Despite being grateful to know their names, there's a small silence in which all four of them wonder how long they'll have to wait before they can acquire additional knowledge that could explain why they have no other memories or recollections. The silence is only broken when Magnus makes a clicking sound with his tongue, shaking his head as if he can physically shake the confusion away before saying, "You can't stay here for much longer. You know that, right?"

"Here…? What do you mean?” Luke asks, now on alert once again. "The library?"

Magnus nods.

"Why?" Simon didn't think it was possible to get any more confused but here he was, getting kicked out of a library - one that he'd only found yesterday and shared with an initially nameless werewolf - by a magical stranger wearing flawless eyeliner.

"Just... Trust me on this one, please."

Something about the way his request sounds pained, and the way he seems to hate the fact he knows something they don't, convinces them to listen and accept his words.

"Where are we meant to go?"

"You think those siblings would attack us again if we went back to that old-looking building?" Simon asks, only half joking.

"Fang, you're an idiot but that is a genius suggestion!" Maia exclaims.

"Fang-?"

"Idiot-?"

"Building-?"

"Let's pretend nobody asked anything," Maia exhales after a pregnant pause, pushing her hair back as unanimous agreements fill the air.

She loops her arm into Simons, pausing to nod at Magnus before they leave; she might still be trying to wrap her head around being a werewolf but she'd rather die than miss the opportunity to thank the one who'd reminded her who she is. Simon obviously agrees because he stutters out a 'thank you' as well before the two of them leave the older two to talk about the library and its fate.

"Now all we have to do is convince them not to attack us."

"I called a truce with her!" Maia reminds him, gently elbowing him. He mock-glares at her.

"I was talking about the dude that knew my name, duh."

Maia rolls her eyes but she can't argue that he certainly hadn't looked very happy to see Simon. "It's fine. We just have to stay on the sister's good side."

Simon raises an eyebrow as if the action is an intrinsic habit. "From what I saw, you seem to have that sorted."

A red glow rises on Maia's cheeks as she emits something that definitely isn't English but can be identified as a protest regardless. She immediately claps a hand over her mouth but Simon's already doubled over, laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkling like pleats on a dress. Maia groans and folds her arms, waiting out his laughter as she tries to hold her own inside. Which she does... until Simon looks up at her and she catches sight of herself within the shine in his eyes, causing her to giggle, albeit reluctantly. It crosses her mind that they must look crazy, a vampire and a werewolf sharing a moment of hysteria, but she ignores the thought, hardly caring.

"Okay, okay, enough!" she gasps eventually, but only after they've both had to wipe tears from their eyes despite not have made any jokes in the first place. "She was looking at you too!"

Simon rolls his eyes and Maia makes a note to prove he's far more lovable than he gives himself credit for at some point but, for the moment, she takes his hand once again, sending him a soft smile and starting to walk, truly grinning when he falls into stride with her and their footsteps harmonise on the pavement.

There's no real conversation between them until they reach the end of the road, the building in site, after which they gradually exchange sarcastic remarks and fractured jokes.

"You again?" the brother asks rhetorically, the question more of a warning.

"Chill, Alec," the sister calls from inside, appearing a moment later and smiling at the two of them. "You guys alright?"

"Izzy..." the brother, Alec, warns.

Despite the obvious protective tone he talks with, Maia knows he won't attack them unless she and Simon are the ones to initiate a fight. And neither of them are willing to start even the mildest of a skirmish when their shelter is at risk.

Simon glances at Maia with a look that tells her he isn't about to give a grand explanatory monologue anytime soon so she clears her throat. "So, um, nice place you've got here."

Izzy raises an eyebrow. "You guys need a place to stay?"

"Oh, just go morph into a bat and hang upside down on a tree somewhere," Alec mutters, but his tone is more defensive than unkind and the two of them can understand that.

Even so, Maia growls. Izzy and Alec jump, their hands flying to their weapons immediately, and Simon clears his throat, stepping obliquely in front of her. "How about we appreciate each other's sarcasm instead of using it as weapons?"

Five seconds, two eyebrow raises, and one grateful exhale later, an unspoken truce fills the air.

"Okay, sorry. We barely remember anything, I think it's agreed that being defensive is a natural reaction?" Alec's voice is softer this time.

Maia nods, swallowing. "Yeah, sorry I went all... Wolf... On you."

Izzy's sly grin is instant. "Don't worry, I appreciate a strong alpha female."

"Izzy!" Alec exclaims, elbowing her and looking at Simon with an inquisitive look. Simon, surprised but not entirely shocked, just shrugs in return.

Maia slings an arm around Simon's shoulders and raises her eyebrows. "So, can we crash with you guys for a bit?"

"Where were you before?" Izzy asks.

"The library."

The four of them frown as they share a look to confirm the answer hadn't come from any of their mouths. Maia sighs as she adds another tally to her mental count of how many times she's had to turn around before looking to the side.

"Luke?"

He doesn't have time to answer before Alec is groaning and leaning on Izzy as his knees temporarily forget how to hold him up, but he's pulling himself upright before anyone can ask what happened. Shaking his head, he nods at Luke. "Are you staying too?"

"If you don't mind."

"I'm Izzy," Izzy says, "and that's Alec, my brother. I'm guessing you know these guys?"

"Simon and Maia? Yeah, I know them." Luke clicks his neck as he walks to them, ruffling Simon's hair as soon as he can reach it; Simon makes a face but doesn't complain.

"Simon and Maia, huh?" Izzy echoes as if testing out their names.

"Seems so, yeah." Maia winks.

Alec frowns. "Wait, how did you guys figure out your names?"

"Oh, we met this guy called Ma-" Simon's reply is cut off when a low-pitched wail fills the air. The five of them groan, covering their ears as the incessant noise increases in volume every second.

"What is that?" Simon yells, his heightened senses screaming at him to get away, to run, to hide from the audible discomfort.

"We don't know!" Izzy yells back as Alec sprints back to the door, slipping inside as if his bones had morphed into grains of sand.

Izzy rolls her eyes and gestures for them to follow before following her brother, Maia and Simon exchanging a look before nodding to one another and also following. Maia hears Like sigh behind them and grins to herself, knowing that he'll follow to make sure they're alright.

Almost three excruciatingly slow minutes go by as they try to locate the source of or how to abort the alarm. In the end, Simon is the one to find a way of switching the noise off, even if it is accidentally. He stumbles over Izzy's foot as she runs by and crashes into the wall behind him, automatically reaching for any kind of anything to pull him up and finding only the lever that happens to disable the alarm system.

"Oh, thank the angel," Alec mutters immediately, his expression one of shock as he sees it was Simon that'd saved their ears.

"What's that meant to mean?" Maia asks.

"Honestly, I have no idea." Alec glances at Simon and, if Maia didn't know better, she might have said it was a look of concern. She can't tell how he means it when he asks: "When's the last time someone gave him any blood?"

Simon almost looks surprised at his vampire nature being acknowledged but Maia swears. "Do you happen to have any blood lying around in this place?"

"Maybe. But we need to find out what set off the alarm." Alec looks to Luke. "You seem like you'd be okay with some fresh air."

"You bet," Luke grins, the corners of his eyes softening despite his smile being rather small.

"And I'll be on host duty," Izzy mock-salutes Alec before sending him a look Maia can't decipher but guesses is a warning to be careful.

"Thanks," Maia says on behalf of Simon, who's currently trying his best not to reveal his extended fangs.

"Anything for my new favourite vampire." Izzy winks at Simon and Maia laughs, knowing his face is most likely almost as red as the blood he needs to drink.

"Okay, enough. We can carry on flirting once we've found the blood."

Simon makes a noise that most likely translates to 'we can?' and Izzy's eyes sparkle so Maia grins at them and winks again, gesturing for Izzy to lead the way.

"Nice jacket, by the way," Izzy says.

"I'm assuming you mean mine because he couldn't possibly get any dorkier," Maia jokes. Simon clears his throat accusingly and elbows her, his eyebrows furrowed in jovial annoyance. Not wanting to open his mouth, he rolls his eyes when Maia turns his coat lapels up and pushes his hair back into a quiff.

Izzy laughs and the two of them follow the sound of her laughter, chucking both at their mission and at each other as they walk through the old-fashioned corridor with their footsteps quietly echoing behind them.

 

* * *

**Part Eight**

* * *

 

No matter what, enough is always eventually enough, Magnus thinks to himself as he walks past the same bizarre tapestry for the fifth time.

He stares at the strange decoration, both appreciating the effort put into it and hating the way it stands out like lightning against a pure night sky, before sighing to himself and deciding to act on his impulses. Grabbing a random jacket from the coat stand before he closes the door behind him, Magnus heads to the only hospital he’d found to be within walking distance when he’d researched places Catarina’s work could be based.

The creases on his forehead come to life as he walks, thriving on his confusion when he doesn’t recognise the pavements and trees and everything else around him. Instead of focusing on what he doesn’t know, he accepts that something is amiss and places all his attention on his magic and figuring out what he can do before he hurts somebody.

“Magnus?” he hears someone ask and turns to see Raphael looking pleasantly surprised.

Magnus sends him a wink before asking, “Do you know anyone called- actually, um, have you come across anyone with blue skin?”

“I can take you to the ward where we keep patients with hypothermia or the old fridge with rotten, blue lemons?” Raphael offers, and his sarcasm is enough to tell Magnus Catarina does not work with him.

“Never mind. Why do you look tired?” Magnus asks, only now noticing the dull shadows under Raphael’s tired eyes and the subtle frown that seems to be glued on to his face. “You’re allowed to take breaks, you know?”

Raphael smiles. “It’s things like this that make me doubt my suspicion of your fiancée.”

Magnus finds his eyes rolling before he can plan the action but he sends Raphael another inquisitive look, genuinely concerned about the palpable exasperation floating around him. Raphael shrugs. “These guys came in with some redhead and I’m sure one of them was a werewolf because he wouldn’t stop growling his questions and the other was someone I wouldn’t want to make an enemy.”

“Consider that noted… more or less,” Magnus replies, intrigued by this purportedly dangerous person. Raphael seems to pick up on his interest because he ends the conversation rather suddenly and points Magnus in the direction of another almost identical corridor, which he later realises is the way to the stranger but, at that moment, doesn’t question Raphael in his decision. 

“Don’t tire yourself out!” Magnus calls just as the two split paths and Raphael half-heartedly waves a hand at him.

The hospital seems harder to navigate than a labyrinth as Magnus walks through and tries not to disturb anyone, mostly sticking near the walls and moving at an incredibly slow pace so he doesn’t become an obstacle for the others walking past. Travelling slowly is also a good way to scout for people and, since he has no idea if Catarina even works here, this seems the best way to locate the only other warlock he knows is alive.

His plan to remain mostly incognito works right up until it doesn’t, at which point he crashes into someone else. At first, he wonders if the person he’d crashed into was holding a needle and had somehow stabbed him with it because there’s a physical pain in his chest as soon as their jackets brush, but then he blinks and registers the lack of blood, which should assure him everything is okay but only serves to confuse him further because pain without a source is highly unusual.

“By the angel…” the person mutters, “are you okay?”

Magnus opens his mouth to say something - anything - but finds he can’t, the gentle baritone having sent his mind into a chaotic haze. He thinks he manages to stumble over a short reply but he can’t be sure because he can only register flashes of brown and blue and things he hadn’t known existed. It takes him a lot longer than usual to realise the continuous whine he can hear is someone screaming and it takes him an absolute age to work out they’re only screaming because bright sparks are raining down around them as if the sprinklers had gone off but their supply of water had been replaced with electricity.

Strangely enough, he’s not the only one who seems to be unperturbed by the whole ordeal; the stranger he’d crashed into is staring at him with his endless brown eyes wide and his brows furrowed.

Magnus watches as the man cocks his head and bites his lip, simply staring at him in a way that would likely be disconcerting if he wasn’t staring back in exactly the same way. Somehow blanking out the people rushing past, Magnus lets his gaze wander over the pale skin, the neatly ruffled hair, and the bow slung over the stranger’s shoulder, small details like that one curled lock of hair and the scar on his hand making him seem more and more like someone familiar. The tiny fragments of brightness raining down around them seem to illuminate the confusion and curiosity on the man’s face and Magnus can’t help thinking that if angels were to grace the place, they would most likely look akin to this man.

He wants to ask the stranger a question, a myriad of questions, but his first inquiry is only just landing on his tongue when there’s a hand on his arm and fingers digging into his skin

"He's dangerous," a sickly voice drawls, so close to his ear it sends shivers down his spine. "You have to stay away, Maggie."

He can't bring himself to move; it's as if the air between the two men is pulling them together, locking them together.

But the vice-like grip on his arm is more painful than the stranger's aura is blissful. Still thinking about the kind, confused eyes, Magnus barely pays attention as he's pulled away, out of the hospital, back into the house he doesn't know if he should call home anymore.

 

* * *

  **Part Nine**

* * *

 

 

If Raphael had spidey sense, he would say it was tingling.

While he doesn’t have spidey sense, he does have a mild version of the power of deduction and his very short time working in the hospital has given him the ability to sense when something’s wrong or if there’s tension in the air. Which there is. Most definitely.

“What’s going on?” he asks the first person he sees, who happens to be someone looking extremely dazed.

“I think… Magnus…” The man breathes as if in a trance and Raphael’s eyebrows fly up as he wonders how this man is connected to Magnus.

“Alec!” someone – a female this time – calls from behind the man he now knows is called Alec and he turns, ending the conversation he probably hadn’t even registered in the first place.

“Raph, the blood’s at stake,” an urgent voice says and, even though they’re not right behind him, it feels like they’re whispering in his ear.

“Well, this can’t be a coincidence,” Raphael mutters to himself as he turns back, dismissing the absurdity of that half conversation and taking on his more serious, survival mode since that line was the code for a vampire meeting. It’d taken him a while to figure out there were other vampires in the hospital but after the initial shock and the occasional explanation to someone who didn’t know what a vampire was, they’d quickly grouped together and had begun sharing information with one another like some sort of secret network.

The others can tell he’s uneasy as he walks into the practically hidden building they’d assigned as their rendezvous but nothing of them say anything, not yet on that level of friendship.

“We might have a problem,” one of them declares.

“What kind of problem?” Raphael asks as he perches on the bench, careful not to lean too heavily in case of the wood buckling underneath him.

A few of them shift uncomfortably before one of them produces a wooden stake from somewhere, the tip of it piercing a letter nobody had wanted to touch. Sighing, Raphael unfolds the paper and reads over it, unsure how to react.

“Either someone’s playing a joke or we’re going to have to relocate.”

“What is it?” A girl, one of their youngest, asks.

He decides not to sugar coat it and replies, “A threat. Someone wants us to disband.”

“Who?”

Raphael shakes his head. “Doesn’t say. Has anyone been followed coming here?”

He can tell they’ll all answer in the negative but before any of them can, there are two people storming into their meeting with fury written on their faces. He recognises them from when they’d come to ask for blood after realising the boy was a vampire but he has no idea why they’d be angry at him.

“You liar!” the vampire yells, “You told us you didn’t resort to violence!”

“We don’t,” Raphael answers, unsure of what’s happening but too confused to ask.

“Then why did you attack Luke?” the girl next to him growls.

“Who?” someone else asks but Raphael doesn’t even care who it is because he’s trying to figure out why any of them would attack someone when no violence was part of their agreement.

“Oh, real funny. Do you have a reason or not?” the girl demands, her eyes blazing. Whoever Luke is, he’s clearly dear to them, more so to the girl. He doesn’t remember attacking anyone so he turns to the group of vampires behind him and raises a questioning eyebrow.

As expected, his answer is a room full of head shakes.

“What makes you think it was us?”

The vampire of them shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know, the fact that he was clearly attacked by a vampire and it wasn’t me so that leaves you… your clan.”

“How do you know it was a vampire?” Raphael asks, trying to find a reasonable explanation.

“I don’t think humans would leave puncture wounds that drip blood or deep gashes at key arteries,” the girl replies, clearly only held back by the boy’s hand on her arm.

“I refuse to believe anyone here attacked someone else unless I see it for myself,” Raphael decides.

Sharing a look, the girl and boy nod to each other and the vampire looks Raphael in the eye with a scarily cold look. “Well, he’s currently a patient in your hospital so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Murmurs behind him blossom before his eyes can widen but he holds up a hand to pause their doubts. “Are you sure?”

The girl glowers in exasperation at him. “Would we be in this dingy old hut if we weren’t?”

“Alright fine, let’s just go back and see this Luke…” Raphael interrupts the vampires who’d started to defend their small rendezvous. And so the three of them find themselves back at the hospital after a very silent walk back, with the other vampire gesturing for Raphael to enter what he guesses is Luke’s room.

“Don’t kill me before you can prove yourselves right,” Raphael mutters but goes in, all the same, frowning when he sees the man lying on his back, bandages on his wrists and his head turned to the side so the two circular scars on his neck are in perfect view.

“What- that can’t be us, we’ve all been working since morning.”

“How do you explain that then?” the girl asks with her hands on her hips.

Unfortunately, he can’t. “There could be other vampires?” he offers, knowing that’s not even close to closure.

The boy groans, letting his head drop back for a second. “This is useless; he doesn’t even know Luke. Let’s just go back to the institute.” The two of them turn to leave but Raphael can’t get rid of the unease bugging him.

“When did this happen?” he asks, “We- uh, our clan, as you called it, received a threat this morning. Do you think Luke was a threat to you?”

The other vampire turns back with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “We’ll get back to you on that.”

“At least we know it wasn’t you specifically. Let us know if you figure out who threatened you.” The girl salutes him but it feels more like mockery than respect. Not that he can blame her.

 

* * *

  **Part Ten**

* * *

 

 

Nature.

If he can't feel at home inside the walls, Magnus figures stepping outside and watching the sunset should calm his raging nerves down enough for him to think.

After dumping his empty mug into the sink as he walks through the kitchen, he grabs the key hanging from the hook and slots it into the back door. Within a millisecond of him turning it, the key heats up beyond bearable and burns the inside of his hand, making him reel backwards and hiss in pain. Somehow ignoring the pain in favour of his perplexity, he reaches for the now-dim key once again and, just as before, the key seems to boil and forces him to step back, clutching his throbbing hand.

"Did I pick the wrong key?" Magnus asks himself as he sends wave after wave of magic into his hand, otherwise unable to even slightly move his fingers without extreme pain accompanied by winces.

Which is why he opts for the front door, half certain he's lost his mind entirely. It turns out he hasn't, as he realises when he's thrown back from the front door as soon as his hand nears the handle. Again and again, he tries to open the clearly unlocked but inexplicably unopenable door, succeeding only in acquiring new superficial burns and bruises.

"This has to be a joke," he tells himself as if willing the prank into existence will work. It doesn't.

Groaning as he realises he can't leave the house in any way and defenestrating himself would be utterly counter-intuitive, he gives up on trying to get out and simply allows one of the records to play, giving him some accompaniment even if it is only music notes instead of people.

Every cloud has a silver lining and so does his lack of sentient company: he has time to think about the stranger from earlier. The more he thinks about those bright, chocolate, eyes and that small, lopsided smile, the less of a stranger he seems. The more he thinks of him, the clearer his identify becomes. But, bizarrely, the more he thinks about him, the more exhausted he becomes.

His eyelids are dropping by the time someone knocks on the door but he's up in an instant, trying the door handle and wondering if his containment plan has a loophole for visitors. It doesn't, and this time, it feels like a current running along his skin and he cries out, crashing into the wall as he pulls his hand back, glaring at the handle as if it had stolen his soul.

"Are you okay?" It's him; Magnus can't bring himself to speak.

There's an awkward shuffling before Magnus has the sense to step to the side and the door rattles for a second before springing open.

"Thank you, darling," Magnus purrs, not even sure why he does it.

The pale brunet flushes and attempts to clear his throat before giving up and resorting to a small wave. As much as Magnus wants to laugh, he knows he's in the same position as soon as their gazes interlock. He can't look away from the man's eyes and, clearly, the man can't look away from him.

"Do I... Do I know you?"

Magnus shakes his head but, at the almost crestfallen look on the other's face, he adds, "I do feel like we know each other, darling, but I can't place it."

"I'm Alec," the man, Alec, says.

"Is that short for anything?" Magnus asks, trying not to focus on the metaphorical bells ringing in his head.

Alec shrugs. "Alexander. But most-" He doesn't get to finish his sentence because Magnus gasps as if being sucked underwater and shuts his eyes, flashes of conversations flickering in front of them.

"Are you- Are you okay?" Alec asks tentatively, frowning in concern.

"I'm Magnus," Magnus replies, knowing it isn't the answer to his question but figuring it's only fair to return the favour of an identity reveal.

It seems to have the same effect as Alec blinks once before stumbling backwards, hitting the door with his shoulder and pushing it closed. He exhales, once, twice, thrice, before finally looking away from Magnus.

It doesn't last long and he watches as Alec's eyes travel over his face, resisting the urge to shift in discomfort and simply allowing the inspection to happen because it gives him an opportunity to do the same to the other man in return. The two of them are at a stalemate, neither of them wanting to look away and neither of them wanting to verbalise the comfortable scrutiny lest they disturb the delicate atmosphere between them. Eventually, their gazes circle back to each other's eyes and they stare, they stare until they both need to blink.

"Mags... I... We... Why didn't we...?" Alec asks as soon as they've carefully ended the silence that'd filled the room.

Magnus shakes his head. "It's okay, nobody did-" he blinks. "Nobody does..."

"Except us...?"

Magnus and Alec don't even notice that they're only a metre apart now, so much closer than they'd expected but still not as close as they could end up.

"I missed you," Magnus admits.

Alec smiles, his eyes full of remorse and understanding. "I missed you too, I just didn't know it was you I was missing."

"If I hadn't been thinking the same thing," Magnus chuckles, "I would be utterly bewildered."

"I'm still bewildered and I'm the one who said it!" Alec shakes his head, his smile fading as he asks, "Do you think someone did this on purpose?"

Magnus, stepping closer to Alec because his heart tells him to, shrugs. "I don't know, my love, but I do know we can stop this..."

"This...?" Alec echoes, now unsure of whether Magnus is referring to their lack of memory or the energy between them. It must be the lack of memory because Magnus entwines his fingers with Alec's, sending shivers along their skin, and his gaze drops to Alec's lips - not that Alec notices because his gaze is on Magnus' lips. They're so close they can feel one another's breath and the heat from their skin is one and the same as they're both moving forward and-

"NO!"

Magnus and Alec jump, the shrill cry piercing the soft tension and sending them both jumping backwards. Before either of them can leave the bubble of comfort they'd created and figure out who'd interrupted them, nails are digging into their hands, untangling their fingers and forcing them apart. They only have time to share a loving look before Alec is pushed out of the door and Magnus is pulled into the house, the echo of a slamming door filling the emptiness of an unwillingly broken romance.

 

* * *

  **Part Eleven**

* * *

 

 

"Excuse you?" Alec asks a recently-shut door, shaking himself out of his daze and wondering why he'd been kicked out. He's also wondering why he so wanted to kiss Magnus but he leaves that aside for a minute because, according to his emerging memories, he's wanted to do a lot more than that in the past, and has done so too.

He kicks the door again, causing it to rattle but succeeding in nothing else, despite his best attempts. Of course, Alec doesn't discriminate between possible entrances and tries all the windows he can access, finding them sealed and too stiff to prise open. By the time the front door moves once more, he's debating whether or not to try his hand at scaling the wall. Unfortunately, the door only stays open long enough for a vampire to walk out. Alec's not one to judge by appearances but he's only ever seen – or heard of – one possible explanation for the sharpened fangs and pallor skin.

"I doubt you'll taste as nice as your puppy friend." She smirks at him. Alec blanches.

"You mean Luke? That was you?"

Camille only sends him a horribly sly smile, rolling her sleeves up. Alec frowns, wondering what she's aiming for, but she only inspects her nails like an archaeologist examining a new fossil.

"Where's Magnus? What did you do?" Alec demands, his stomach dropping.

At that moment, he decides Camille's smile is the worst one he's ever seen, simply because it's so devoid of the usual joy that comes with the expressive gesture.

"Anyway, things to do, places to go, people to talk with, right?" Camille waves each finger individually before clicking her fingers twice then turning, her strangely lemon-scented hair flying outwards as she opens the door and slips inside.

Alec, naturally, lunges to catch the door before it locks but he's stopped by a hand pulling on his arm. Two arms actually. Two arms attached to two men - vampires - who seem to have appeared out of nowhere to glare at him and presumably to keep him away from Magnus. As much as Alec wants to kill someone - or at least seriously injure them - he knows better than to pick a fight with vampires, especially when he's clearly outnumbered and sans any runes to help him.

Sighing, he glances at the house, scanning it for Magnus's face, before grudgingly retreating and pausing to inhale before sprinting his way back to the institute, closing his eyes as he feels the breeze brushing past and the pavement soften and harden under his shoes.

"Alec, what-?"

"Izzy. I remember... We have to- Magnus!"

"You know Magnus?" Maia asks, instantly interested.

"Know him? He's my boyfriend!" Alec exclaims before realising they won't know that. "We have to find him."

"What about Luke?" To her credit, Maia seems to just accept the sudden declaration of a relationship.

Alec's expression hardens. "That was Camille."

Simon clears his throat. "Who?"

Before Alec can reply, Raphael sucks in a breath. "Camille? You're sure?"

"Yeah, wh- oh. Raphael? Oh no..." Alec trails off and leaves everyone confused but their confusion doesn't have time to show itself because Alec and Raphael share a fearful look before nodding to one another and running inside.

Izzy, Maia, and Simon must agree on something in a silent conversation because there's no sign of their confusion when the three of them follow, grabbing their own weapons as they see Alec slinging a bow over his shoulder. Once they're all sufficiently armed, they follow Raphael, having to chase him because he keeps forgetting to avoid using his vampire speed in his hurry to reach Magnus and Camille.

Aside from Raphael who uses his speed to move out of the way, the four of them crash into each other as they make an abrupt stop in front of Camille's house. Raphael fishes the keys out of his pocket and goes to unlock the door when he changes his mind. "Something's wrong. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Duck!" Simon yells.

Alec cracks a small smile at the thought of Jace's reaction but has no time to wonder where his parabatai is because there's a black object flying past them and hitting the door, only to immediately be blown backwards and land on the alarmingly bright green grass, leaving the five of them only two seconds to curl their arms over their heads before it explodes into a cloud of smoke and flame, the sparks of which rain down on them without causing any lasting damage.

"Clearly we're not meant to use the door," Maia says, hating the shocked silence hanging around them.

"Incoming," Alec says quietly, nodding his head towards the shadows emerging from the greenery around the house. Raphael sighs,

"Alec, I'll find you a way in-" He turns to Izzy, Maia, and Simon- "You guys have to cover us."

"Done," Simon replies, looking to the girls, who nod, Maia's eyes flashing and Izzy unfurling her whip. After nodding to Izzy, Alec dismisses the thought of being attacked and continues to follow Raphael, both of them scanning the house for an entrance that won't kill them to cross. It takes them far too long, in Alec's opinion, to find a way of going inside but, eventually, Raphael spots an unshielded area.

"Are you any good at climbing?"

"Climbing?" Alec asks before following Raphael's gaze to the attic window. "Oh. Yeah, I'll be fine."

Raphael nods and gives him a boost so he can grab one of the exhaust pipes, then start to scale the building. Occasionally, he'll yell for Alec to move or stop because there are insecure bricks or something else that may fall but, for the most part, Alec thinks of Magnus the whole time. As soon as he reaches the window, he looks down to Raphael. "Go and help the others!"

His heart drops as his left foot slips but he manages to grab the window frame and keep himself from plummeting. He hears Izzy yell and Maia growl as he tries the handle, wondering if life could be that simple. As expected, it's not. He groans and pulls an arrow from his quiver, adjusting his grip before jabbing the tip into the glass as hard as he can without losing his balance. Since the window only cracks rather than shattering, he pulls back and stabs the glass again, and again, and again, until the spiderweb of fragmentation is fragile enough for him to simply nudge with his elbow and break.

He closes his eyes as the glass crumbles and takes a moment to steel himself before stepping into the frame and pushing aside the curtain.

 

* * *

  **Part Twelve**

* * *

 

 

Dust, while it may not be a scintillating conversationalist, is definitely mesmerising.

Magnus watches the particles of dust fly up like liberated, pastel glitter and lets his head drop back against the cold wall. If he could, he'd be pacing the room and trying to figure out what's going on and how to leave but he can't stand up without being yanked back to the floor so he's sitting with his legs straight out in front of him, one foot on top of the other, watching the grey flecks as they mope around any space they can find.

Watching as the dust makes patterns in the air, rising faster than his euphoria when he’d recognised Alec and falling faster than his hope when Camille had interrupted their moment of revelation, he clicks his neck and cracks his knuckles, wishing he could rid himself of the cramps in his legs.

He can't even tell how long he's been locked up because it's as if someone has vacuumed the brightness out of the room and thrown in shadows instead, each one overlapping and twisting so he can't see beyond his hands. Or, more accurately, he can't see beyond the metal securely fastened around his hands, the metal that feeds on his strength, holds his magic back and means anything other than breathing is exhausting, not that he's attempting to do anything else.

The sound of cracking glass makes him jump. He hadn't even noticed the window before he'd heard it start to shatter but now he's on high alert, having watched the glass hit the curtain and bounce away, falling into what's probably the garden. He holds his breath as a black boot appears on the windowsill and stiffens as the curtain is pushed back before the shadow of an arm appears and-

"By the angel, it's dark in here."

"Alexander?" Magnus blinks, recognising the voice immediately because who wouldn't recognise the voice of their favourite soul and, not exactly coincidentally, boyfriend?

"Magnus?"

The curious, inquisitive whisper is so soft, so hopeful, that Magnus wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around the one who'd uttered it, especially since the one who'd uttered it is the love of his life. He wants to drape a blanket of reassurance of around the person’s shoulders and make sure their smile never fades but he can’t move, can’t help, can’t do anything except use his dry vocal chords.

"Oh, Alexander..."

Alec all but topples into the room, steadying himself and clearly rubbing his eyes as if trying to manually speed up his adjustment to the dark. "Where are you?"

"You can't see me?" Magnus teases, but then sighs, knowing he wasn't imagining the unusual darkness. "Walk forwards until you reach a wall, then go left."

Alec pauses. "So, diagonally?" He asks before less than carefully making his way to Magnus. Magnus knows Alec has reached when he feels someone trip on his leg and let out a small exclamation of surprise.

"Sorry," Magnus whispers.

He doesn't hear Alec reply but then there are gentle hands on either side of his face and he's gasping before he can think because he can feel Alec's strength tuning into his magic, the shadowhunter literally making him stronger just by being there.

"Magnus, what's keeping you here?"

In any other situation, the question would be either absolutely ridiculous or completely philosophical but, at the moment, it’s nothing more than efficient. The urgency in Alec's voice does not go unnoticed but Magnus doesn't have the energy to explain so he lifts his hands and the rattling of chains is enough of an answer for Alec, who whistles in annoyance.

Alec fumbles with the chain, following it to the wall where it seems to be efficiently unmovable before groaning and tugging on it, then feeling around for a keyhole of any kind he might be able to unlock or break. Unfortunately, magic shackles in the possession of vampires don't seem to work the same way as mundane handcuffs.

"I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful and kept watch or something and I-"

Magnus interrupts him, "Alexander, darling, how many people does a conventional kiss require?"

"Two?"

"And so the blame falls on how many people?" Magnus asks, knowing Alec will both blush and roll his eyes.

"Two..." Alec mumbles bashfully, "I love you, Magnus.”

"I'd hope so, I don't just risk getting chained up for anyone, you know."

Alec jumps as the sound of someone crashing into something wooden echoes from behind a door neither of them can see and accidentally elbows Magnus as a result, who gasps in surprise and jabs his knee into Alec's side purely out of reflex.

"Ow, Mags..."

Magnus, still reeling from Alec's accidental blow, only sends him a sheepish grin. As much he wants to be annoyed, Alec just laughs and laughs and keeps laughing until he can't breathe. When he does finally pause to inhale, he can't tell if his tears are due to hysteria or hopelessness.

Magnus wants nothing more than to reach up and wipe the tears away but he can't lift his arms so he leans forward as much as he can and kisses the first area of skin he can, which happens to be Alec's chin. Alec himself laughs at the gesture and wraps his arms around Magnus, his head buried in the crook of the warlock's neck.

"I want to go back Magnus, I need you." Alec's voice is quiet but the waver at the end speaks volumes. Not to mention that Alec willingly admitting something so sincere is a clear display of vulnerability and a trust Magnus has vowed never to break because breaking it would break him too.

"I'm right here, Alexander." Magnus knows that's not what Alec means because he wants the same, he wants to leave this place, he needs their life back.

"Magnus..." Alec murmurs, his lips brushing against Magnus's neck and his hands entangling in Magnus' hair, making the warlock shiver, "can I ask you to do something?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Shrugging, Alec pulls himself upright and rubs arches onto either side of Magnus' face with his thumbs. "Kiss me?"

"That's not doing something for you." Magnus winks. "That's doing something for me.”

"Shut up, warlock," Alec murmurs as he leans forward, letting their noses collide before tilting his head and connecting their lips in a soft explosion of patient love.

Pulling back as they register the crash outside the door, Alec and Magnus let their gazes lock for only a second before silently deciding that the battle outside is nothing they can stop when one's hands are in chains and the other's heart is in chains.

"Don't tell me what to do, shadowhunter," Magnus breathes, a smirk on his face that only vanishes when Alec covers it with his own.

The rest of the world melts away, the darkness dims, and the smashed window blurs into insignificance as they let their eyes shut and their lips dance, their hearts soaring and their personal space becoming a bubble of warmth, safety, and love. They both have those they consider family fighting against the one they'd never want as part of their family in the vicinity but it hardly matters because they're together and, to them, that's better than any victory the world has to offer. Even though they can barely see and barely move, they're content with each other, so context that they don't notice anything happening until they land on soft, silk bed-sheets.

Magnus is the first to notice the change in their environment as he feels his magic rushing through his veins, filling his soul with strength. He gasps into their kiss, panting as he realises he can move and immediately placing his hands on Alec's cheekbones, admiring his shadowhunter's effortless beauty.

Alec is a close second, grinning widely as he watches the bruise on Magnus' forehead vanish and realises they're about to fall off the bed, then twisting so the two of them are on their sides, facing each other. He places his hands over Magnus' and takes a moment to catch his breath before laughing.

"You alright, love?" Magnus asks, his voice the epitome of gentle.

Alec nods. "More than alright." He lets his lips brush Magnus' nose, planting the smallest, most delicate kiss on the - in his opinion - flawless skin.

"Was that some kind of nightmare?" he wonders aloud as the two of them let their fingers entwine and their breathing rates settle.

"As much I hope so, I fear we'll have to take a quick trip to visit a certain vampire," Magnus admits. Neither of them wants to, they know that, but sometimes, you need to face the people you'd rather leave behind to find answers.

"The weirdest thing was," Alec muses, "I was starting to believe it was all just me being paranoid, that nothing was really wrong."

"That you did have memories there and all you had to do for them to be real was accept them?" Magnus adds.

Nodding, Alec finds himself frowning a little, wondering what would have happened if he'd never come across Magnus. As if sensing his unnecessary theorising, Magnus pokes Alec's cheek, shaking his head before whispering, "Don't worry, Alexander. I promise we'll always find each other in every situation."

"I know, Magnus, that's why I love you."

Magnus raises an eyebrow and Alec flushes as red as a finishing sunset. "So maybe I have other reasons too..."

"Oh? Like what?" Magnus drawls, a sly smirk on his face, the smirk he knows will usually result in an adorably flustered shadowhunter.

Unwilling to lose to his boyfriend's charm once again, Alec takes a small breath and smirks back, looking Magnus right in the eyes and watching the gold shine in them before replying, "Like the fact that I know you'll help me replace those memories with ones that are less synthetic and more magical… much more you.”

“With pleasure." Magnus winks.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there was one artwork twice, It just fit in both places and we couldn't pick a favourite scene so you can gaze at the stunning masterpiece twice! I'm still honoured to have such beautiful art drawn for my crazy story! Thanks for reading! Leave a Kudos or comment?


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